Chapter Twenty
Constance wanted to go over to him, but she managed to make herself wait for him to approach her, although he unfortunately had his mother in tow.
He bowed his head, a smile upon his lips, and Constance and Charity curtsied to them both.
"How lovely to see you again, Lord Gracewood, Lady Gracewood," Charity said. "Isn’t it, Constance?"
Constance nodded, feeling almost struck dumb by finally seeing him – handsome, in a dark purple cravat which seemed to make his blue eyes look like pools she could lose herself in.
"Yes, very. You remember our grandmother? Lady Basingstoke?"
"Of course. It is lovely to see you again." His eyes met hers. "You are looking beautiful tonight," he said, then coughed awkwardly. "All of you, you are looking wonderful."
Constance felt her cheeks go red.
"Come, Ezra, we mustn’t stand here all day. Let us procure refreshments, and I’m sure we will see these ladies later."
"Yes, yes, of course," Ezra said, and Constance struggled to tear her gaze away from him, wanting to reach out and keep him close – even though, of course, she could not.
"I don’t like the mother," Charity muttered when they were out of earshot. "She’ll make trouble, mark my words."
"She’s just protective of her son," Constance said, although she was also not very fond of Lady Gracewood.
Well, she could tell that Lady Gracewood was not very fond of her, and that made it hard to like the woman.
But she was determined to try. For if anything was to happen between her and Ezra – and she very much hoped it might – she would need to get his mother on side.
"Lady Basingstoke," a voice said, and the three women turned to find a middle-aged gentleman bowing his head. "How lovely to see you again."
"Mr Chalmers," Grandmother said with a smile. "I thought you intended to spend the Season in London?"
"That was my plan, yes. I stayed for a while – my sister was bringing her daughter out into society. But I must confess, I yearned for home, and so I returned earlier this week."
"Well, I can understand wanting to be back in Northumberland," Grandmamma said. "May I present my granddaughters – Lady Charity and Lady Constance Beaumont?"
The ladies curtsied, as Mr Chalmers said, "Charmed. I would be honoured if you would both save me a dance, if you have any free, that is."
In truth, they had every dance free. So far, they had only conversed with Ezra, and he had not actually asked either of them to dance.
Mr Chalmers seemed like a pleasant enough man, but Constance really didn’t want to dance with anyone besides Ezra.
But that wasn’t acceptable, and would seem awfully rude, so she agreed to join him in the next set, with Charity joining him for the one after.
She was sure Ezra would ask her to dance, but he seemed rather jittery, and quieter than usual.
She hoped his mother had not said anything unkind about her that made him wary of dancing with her.
She wasn’t confident in many things in her life, but she was fairly sure that he did want to dance with her – and she knew she wanted to dance with him.
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"There are several eligible young ladies here tonight, Ezra," his mother said, appraising the crowd with her drink in hand. "If you are seriously looking for the next Countess of Gracewood, you could look a little further before making your decision."
"I do not wish to be discourteous, Mother. And I am sure you mean well. But I think you know I have made my decision – and I would thank you not to continue down this line of thinking."
His mother looked irritated, but she did not argue. "Very well. But remember what you promised – you will not spend the night dancing with only one lady."
Even if it had been socially acceptable, he was clearly not going to be able to claim all of Lady Constance’s dances.
For he watched her stepping onto the dance floor on the arm of Mr Chalmers – a perfectly pleasant local gentleman, if a little dull.
Why had he not asked her to dance already?
he asked himself, feeling jealous of the man who got to dance with her.
His mind had been elsewhere – that was the problem.
For Constance had looked even more beautiful than ever, and he had known in his heart that there was no turning back.
He was going to ask her to marry him, and sooner rather than later.
Not tonight; he wouldn’t want there to be an audience, or for her to feel pressured into saying yes because others would instantly know.
It ought to be something between the two of them, he thought; and he knew he needed to tell her of his fears, of the reason why he had been hesitant – so that she was not surprised when they inevitably came up again.
It was hard, though, to think about talking to anyone about Laura – and her death, and the part he had played in it.
And yet, if they were going to wed, and it would be a love match on both sides, he thought, they surely ought to begin with honesty.
He watched as both Ladies Beaumont danced with Mr Chalmers, and then found that they were encircled by young men, interested in these beautiful women who were not the usual guests at these Northumberland events.
He downed his drink and hurried over, desperate to secure at least one dance with Constance. And yet somehow, it was Lady Charity who stood before him, smiling and fluttering her fan.
"Lady Charity has space on her dance card, Ezra," his mother prompted, and politeness dictated that he ask her:
"Would you do me the honour of the next dance?"
She smiled and agreed happily, and he was propelled onto the dance floor with her before he had a chance to ask the only woman he wanted to dance with. And by the look of the number of suitors surrounding her, she might not have a dance left by the time he had finished dancing with her sister.
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Constance did not think that she could have felt more hurt if her sister had picked up a literal knife and stabbed it in her heart.
She had been waiting for Ezra to ask her to dance, surprised by the number of other gentlemen who wished to do so, but keen to make sure that there were plenty of dances for Ezra if he chose to claim them.
And then somehow he was dancing with her sister, and she could not help but watch them – the way his eyes lit up, and her sister’s pretty smile – as her dreams crumbled before her eyes.
Of course he would prefer her prettier sister.
Why wouldn’t he? If it was the Beaumont dowry he was after, then Charity was the far better candidate.
When it came to it, it was Charity he had asked to dance, not Constance.
She had clearly been fooling herself to think there was something between them.